Love Thy Neighbor
by Firespin98
Summary: A peculiar woman becomes Hannibal's new neighbor; she has no idea as to what nightmare she's charmed herself into, and if she'll ever be able to escape it. Light Hannigram.
1. Prologue

The moving vans had come and gone and a lone car remained in the driveway. A Cadillac of sorts. Hannibal had watched from his home office as a person moved into the house next door. He felt the need to invite the new resident over for dinner or tea, as a housewarming gift, but didn't know how to go about it. He didn't know who his new neighbor was, how many were there, or anything of the sorts. He would continue to watch until the identity of his neighbor was disclosed or if Will showed up.

Half an hour had passed. He had pulled up a chair and was reading a book, focusing a part of his vision on his peripherals. It was a nice house. He was somewhat glad that it was going to be occupied- hopefully the person could bring back its lovely aura. He had high expectations for this new person. He was tired of waiting. His dinner ingredients were decaying by the minute. Hannibal left his office for the kitchen and prepped a buckwheat-cheddar blini with smoked "fish." He would invite the person or people before the finishing touches were added.

Or he could drop a letter in her mailbox inviting him or her on a specific date, in which he could invite others.

Why wait?

He or she might feel uncomfortable on a 1 on 1 dinner with a stranger.

He could bring them a bottle of wine?

This was the internal struggle.

A bottle of wine would be more of a housewarming gift, but then again, they might not drink. He wasn't one to bake, so a basket of baked goods was out of the question. He was left with the two options; dinner tonight, or a letter reserving them a spot at dinner some other time.

He made dinner.

A Will abruptly entered as Hannibal was pouring a glass of wine.

"Is Alana coming?"

"No."

"Ah…there's a car in that driveway. I never noticed any sign of somebody living there; does somebody live there?"

"They moved in today. I'm planning on inviting them over for dinner one night as a sort of welcome gift. Of course, you're welcome to join."

Will made a small facial expression of gratitude before draining a glass of wine.

"How many?"

"I'm not sure. I haven't seen them."

"They moved in today and you haven't seen them?"

Hannibal gave him a look.

"Buckwheat-cheddar blini with smoked vermillion snapper."

They sat.

They ate.

They delved into deep conversation about the latest case.

They retreated into Hannibal's study for further discussion and a last glass of wine.

"Who do you think is my new neighbor, Will?"

"What?"

"If you don't mind, I'd like for you to do a simple profiling of the house and car and tell me who you think lives there."

"You could just ring the doorbell and introduce yourself; that seems a lot more efficient."

"This is not about my curiosity; I'd like you to try using your profiling skills on something less gruesome than your cases."

Will sighed. "It doesn't…I can't do that."

"I believe you can."

Will applied his empathic profiling abilities to the scenario at hand. A person buying a presumably expensive house in an upscale area. Nice car, looks a bit expensive as well. One car. And-

And there she is.

"She's digging through the trunk of her car…"

Hannibal leaned forward to get a better look. She was a pretty woman, pleasing white attire and an overall smart, well put together look.

"And it is to my understanding that Jack is the one assigning you to that particular case?" Hannibal began, changing the topic over to murder.


	2. Dinner for Two

That night, Hannibal decided to invite his new neighbor(s) over for dinner in three days' time. He pondered over who to invite. Will and his colleagues? Or Mrs. Komeda and others? He had settled on something much simpler- a dinner for two.

Three days had passed.

He placed the entrée in the oven and cleaned off his hands. His neighbor or neighbors would be here soon. It didn't show, but he was a little bit excited. He tasted the simmering sauce on a stove and added nutmeg to his taste.

He sipped from his wine and set a pre-course salads and fresh bread.

The doorbell's chime resounded throughout the foyer he was entering. He had invited the neighbor 15 minutes before dinner would be finished in order to allow them some time to get comfortable to a very new environment. He straightened his vest for presentation and opened the door.

It was one person; the woman he saw three nights ago. His new neighbor. She had traded her white business suit dress for a classier, simple black dress. She held her hands together in her lap and smiled kindly. He took a second to analyze. Blue eyes, dark brown hair, around mid to late 30s.

He stood off to the side to allow her entrance into his home.

"I'm glad to finally have the opportunity to meet you in person, Ms..."

"Ava Cole," she reached her hand out for a shake. "I'm glad to meet you, as well, Dr. Lecter. It was very nice of you to invite me. Am I early?"

"No. I invited you fifteen minutes before the meal in order to give us a moment to get acquainted. Would you like a glass of wine, Ms. Cole?"

"Yes, please."

"Any particular colour?"

"Red."

He nodded and fixed both of them a glass.

"You can call me Ava. So, as your letter revealed- which was very quaint, by the way- you're a doctor?"

"Yes, I am a doctor of psychiatry. I have a private practice in downtown Baltimore."

"Ah- and you're accent?"

"Lithuanian."

She smiled and nodded.

"I'm gathering a British accent- I take it you moved here from England, but I'm also hearing something else..."

"Aha! Very good, Doctor! I was born in Belgium and moved to England when I was twenty two. Spent twenty years there and felt it was time to leave again. Continuously attempting to keep my first accent."

Hannibal nodded, continuing to take in minute every detail she put forth. He hid his surprise at her age- forty two. She didn't look a day over 35. Then again, he was nearing 50 and many people believed he was but 45.

"Why did you feel it was time to leave, if I may ask?"

Her smile faltered. "Are you analyzing me, Doctor?"

"No. I am merely getting to know my neighbor. And, please, call me Hannibal."

She nodded. It was apparent that she still believed he was analyzing her. He could practically see her defenses rise. Ava couldn't have been very skilled in masking her emotions, for he could plainly see she wanted to hide something. Or forget something. Occasionally, the two went hand in hand. There was a noticeable twitch in the under dystonia of her left eye. Her eyes were drifting from him, as if she was seeking an answer in his own home.

"I was becoming tired of the same place, same people, same things. Growing restless, I suppose." There was a subtle caution applied to her wording at this point.

"Baltimore appeals to you?"

"More or less, yes. Nice weather. Urban, but not unattractively industrialized."

"Surely that can't be the only reason you moved here."

"And if it is?"

"Is it?"

Hannibal knew he was pushing the boundaries of etiquette, but he was indeed curious. Of course, he wouldn't pry her for every detail of her previous life. That would be rude. But he could nudge that boundary with the tip of his Italian leather shoes. He could push, ever-so-slightly.

"...I did not move here, per say, I moved away from. As I said, I was tired of my life beforehand. It became boring. I thought it would be interesting to come to America. The list of cities I favored dwindled to Baltimore, so here I am."

They sat in a comfortable silence.

"Very good wine, Hannibal."

"Thank you. I corked it myself."

She raised her glass to that.

"The food should be done at this point- if you would follow me to the dining room?" he asked, standing.

She stood, dusted off her dress out of impulse, and followed.

The walk to the dining room was short, albeit visually interesting. Paintings of Venetian merriment and French celebration adorned the walls. The carpet looked genuine Persian. She wanted to shed her shoes and stockings and feel the silky fabric on her feet. Her attention was then drawn to the wall's molding and painting; they combined to give the whole house a sense of aristocracy.

Hannibal sat her down at the dining room table. Ava was turned off by the long table, obviously meant to hold more than two people. He poured her another glass and set the bottle on the table. He left her to her thoughts for a moment in order to bring out the plates.

"I've prepared pates au fruits de mer with prosciutto and a side of asparagus in tarragon cream sauce."

Ava was visibly impressed. Hannibal smirked at her reaction, his pride swelling as he set a plat in front of her.

_"Bon appetit."_

"Outstanding, Hannibal. I'll have to invite you over sometime as well."

Hannibal placed a small collection of the various foods on his fork and ate. Upon her comment, he looked up to her with a raised eyebrow.

"You cook, Ava?"

"Yes, I do, although not nearly as well as you, I see," she grinned.

"What is it that you cook?"

"Not this," she took a bite of food, "I'm more of a coffee house cook. I specialize in drinks and baking, but I can make a daring brunch."

"Should I look forward to that?"

"Of course. As soon as I get done unpacking. I'd love to have you over for brunch; see how well my cooking compares."

"I'll be looking forward to it," he said, raising a wine glass.

They toasted.

"Here's to having a lovely new neighbor," she nodded to him.

He smirked and continued to savor his expertly crafted design.

"I'm curious, Ava. What is it you do?"

She looked up from her plate- eyes wide and eyebrows raised.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Career wise."

She paused, eyes drifting to the table. Her mind was flooding with what she could say. There was a little bit of everything, really. A few restaurants she ran, a botanical garden and planetarium as well, but they were still back in England. She was going to open up a theater, but her finances would only allow her to move here or start the project. Looking back, she did many things, the only common denominator of it all was being the boss.

"I dabble in a little bit of everything."

He glanced at her and continued eating.

"You could say, career-wise, I'm in business. Managerial. Of course-ah, my business is central in England, so I've taken up continuing my work from a computer. I get to be a stay at home boss, at last," she said, twirling her fingers in delight.

A little giggle escaped her mouth. Followed by another one. That giggle grew into a chuckle and into a small laugh. It was like a snowball rolling downhill. She started laughing hard, tears sprung into her eyes. He set his utensils down and looked at her, a ghost of a smile on his face. He watched her try to calm herself by taking another sip of wine. She was tiptoeing on the border of drunkenness.

"I-I'm sorry," she settled down, "I just- back home I was very, very busy, and I was out doing things all the time and it was such a stress, and now...now I can do all my work in bedroom slippers and pajamas," her laughing turned into a grin that she tried to hide with her wine glass.

Hannibal poured her more wine.

"Thank you. And this dinner was magnificent, Hannibal."

"You're quite welcome."

They finished their meals in a silence that, if it not for Ava's tipsy stupor, would've been awkward. He was satisfied to find that she was not a rude drunk- she was the type who found everything humorous. One more glass couldn't hurt. They were about to finish a second bottle, anyway.

"Might I escort you to the living room?"

"Oh, yes."

They stood. Hannibal led the way towards the front of the house and into the living room. It was large, comfortable. Two chairs sat in front of a fireplace. A distance over were two couches and a love seat positioned to be facing each other, a coffee table pulling it together. It seemed the whole house had a theme consisting of statuettes, red, and finely aged looking décor. The furniture was an exception, for it was quite contemporary.

"Please, have a seat."

She did as instructed.

He left the room and, from the sound of it, was putting away the dishes.

She waited for him for about fifteen minutes. In those minutes, she observed the room. It was a nice room. This supported her theory that the house maintained a consistent theme. She found the theme tasteful. It surely didn't match hers, though. She preferred clean, white, glass, and more plants.

She stood up straight at the sound of the front door being knocked on. Seconds later, a disheveled, scruffy looking young man entered the threshold.

"Dr. Lecter, I need to..." he trailed offed, finding not Dr. Lecter, but his neighbor in his living room.

"Hello, love," Ava shot him a smile.

"Um...Sorry, I didn't-"

"Will. What a pleasant surprise. I was just having a glass of wine with Ava." Hannibal said, alerted by his presence.

"Ava. Right. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, I'll...come back lat-"

"No." Hannibal and Ava said simultaneously. They all shared a look amidst the slightly tense scenario.

"I don't mind in the least bit," Ava said lightly.

Will then looked to Hannibal.

"Please, sit, Will. I'll fix another glass."

He nodded and sat on the love seat to the side of the couch Ava sat on. She observed him, and the first thing that came to mind was _disheveled._ His hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in days, his clothes looked like something he found on the floor and determined it was clean by the lack of odor. He was avoiding eye contact.

"So, uh, you must be Dr. Lecter's neighbor...Ava."

"Yes, I am. I'm afraid I don't know you, though. All I know is your name is Will."

"There's not much to know."

"Au contraire! Everyone has an interesting story. Everyone has something worth someone else knowing. Come now, don't be modest."

Will inhaled deeply.

"You two are getting along, I hope." Hannibal said upon his return.

They all clutched the stem of their glasses. Some more delicately than others. Hannibal and Ava took notice to Will's shaking hands. _What was Will's problem?_

"Will here is a consultant for the FBI. A very skilled criminal profiler and professor."

"Oh! How fascinating. Do you like your job...s?"

Will scoffed with a small smile on his face. "It has its pros and cons."

Ava nodded in understanding and drained every drop of wine in her glass.

"I must say I am very impressed. I wasn't expecting such a lovely night, Hannibal. I'm afraid I must be going now, I have cats to feed and accounts to monitor."

Ava set the glass on the coffee table and stood. Hannibal stood as well. It took Will a moment to decide whether to stand or not- he did.

"It was lovely making your acquaintance, Ava. I look forward to our next meal."

He walked her to the door. Will stood behind awkwardly and sat back down.

"If you give me your number, I can give you a ring when I'm settled and ready to ravish your taste buds."

Hannibal smiled at her word choice. Very eloquent. He raised his finger.

"One moment, I will go retrieve a card."

She waited at the door for a moment before Hannibal came back with a slip of cardstock paper with a name, number, and various other tidbits of info.

"I'll text you when I get home so you have my number, as well," she drawled, her attention divided between him, his number, and the sight of her house.

He nodded.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Ava."

"You as well, Hannibal."

Hannibal waited before she was off the front steps before closing the door. He lingered, watching her through the windows. Her emotions melted from her face- as if the entire time she was in his house featured her in a mask. She was no longer giddy looking, despite how much wine she had. Of course, her emotions couldn't stop her from stumbling a bit. He regretted not walking her to her door, but it wasn't far at all, she could make it. He waited until she was off his property before turning his attention to Will.

"She's quite the conversationalist." Will said sassily from the threshold of the living room.

"Quite the entrepreneur as well."

Will chuckled, an underlying layer of miserableness detectable.

"Sit, Will, I will fix you dinner."


	3. Brunch at Her Place

It was a week from that night. Ava had put everything up and the boxes were piled high in her garage. The plants in the conservatory were arranged just so- it was like walking into a rainforest with sand for floors. She read up on the stock market and began buying. Her businesses were fairing well so far. The sub managers were probably feeling more in charge, and everyone had the belt loosened around them. Things were easier for everyone.

Her kitchen was nicely prepared. It was very contemporary themed, much like the rest of the house. Nice. Neat. Clean. She laughed out of pure joy.

She texted Hannibal.

_Good morning. How about that brunch?_

She began perusing her collection of ingredients. She stocked up just a few days ago, so she had enough to make a killer coffee drink or fruit flavored water concoction. She could make a nice omelet or cinnamon croissant. Hell, it was breakfast AND lunch, so why not both?

She heard her phone vibrate from the marble countertops and read her new text.

_What time?_

She smirked.

_Now._

She pranced around the kitchen, into the hall, up the stairs, and into her bedroom in order to retrieve her laptop. She set it up in the kitchen and put on an opera music station. She begun basic steps of ballet she learned as a child in order to exert her morning energy.

Another text.

_I will be there in approx. 5 minutes._

She squealed in delight.

Hannibal, from what she had seen, was the type of man she definitely wanted to be friends with. A psychiatrist with exquisite tastes, a nice house, a fantastic cook! God, she had never had anything like that dinner. The vegetables tasted phenomenally fresh, the sauce and meat was sweet, the noodles- perfection. And wine he corked himself? Masterpiece. She was determined to impress him this time. She didn't quite have the opportunity last week, but now, in her house, she would make him a brunch so extraordinary he'd feel a sense of competition.

There was a knock at her door.

She jumped at the sound and made her way to the foyer; before she opened the door she had to control her breathing, straighten her outfit, and tuck her hair back. She opened the door.

Hannibal was looking at her garden. When he heard the door open he turned to it. There she was, bright and jovial looking. The tables had turned when she moved out of the way to let him in.

"My, my, don't we look well rested," Ava cooed.

"I could say the same to you..." he murmured, taking in his surroundings.

"If you would please take off your shoes? You can put them in that cupboard just over there; I prefer no shoes throughout the house."

Hannibal obliged. He opened up the cupboard and saw many pairs of shoes, all presumably belonging to her. Black heels, white heels, some with toes, some without, mainly pumps, some flats, and, in Hannibal's opinion, a commendably cute pair of Mary Janes.

"To the kitchen, shall we?"

Hannibal nodded and followed her to the source of the opera music. He liked it. He liked the kitchen as well, very nice.

"What would you like to drink, Hannibal? I can prepare anything."

"Anything? Is that a challenge?"

"Take it as you wish. I'm always up for a challenge."

"Surprise me. Something non alcoholic, please."

"I don't serve alcohol before four."

The silence they shared was pierced by an angel's voice from the opera station. From the corner of her eye, she saw him stare at her laptop. Not stare, more like gazing. She, in her best attempt at subtlety, tried to catch a glance at what he was looking at. It was simply the radio station. He seemed lost in thought by either it or the music, and it was only logical that it would be the music.

She continued her concocting of a drink and watching him. She noticed his attention break to something at the bar stool next to him. A Siamese cat stood, two front paws on the bar, hind legs on the seat.

"No! Down, Coco!" Ava said sternly.

The cat reluctantly obeyed.

"I'm sorry. That's Coco- her brother should be wake up soon. They'll be flummoxed by the new environment. I didn't let them leave the bedroom until I had unpacked so they might have familiars around them."

"Ah. They are Siamese, yes?"

"Yes. Wait, shh..." she hushed, holding up a finger.

There was a light thumping noise in the distance. It grew closer...and closer...around the corner...and out dashed another Siamese cat, pupils huge.

"And that's Augustus," she said, setting down her materials and advancing towards the mingling cats, "shoo, out of the kitchen now, out, out. Excuse me Hannibal, I need to put them somewhere," she murmured.

She left him in the kitchen and followed the cats. Hannibal was not a cat person, and was a bit perturbed by 'Coco' putting her paws on the bar. He removed the cloth from his blazer's breast pocket and wiped it down before carefully folding it in a manner where the dirty side was the in side and placed it back in the pocket. She looked over at where Ava's materials and ingredients were. Before he could identify what she was making, she returned. He felt better when she washed her hands.

"How do you discern the difference between Coco and Augustus? They look exactly the same."

"Ah-ah, no. They aren't exactly the same. Coco has longer whiskers."

He didn't bother pressing small talk.

"What would you like to eat? I can bake anything, I can prepare breakfast sarnies and lunch omelets- anything you'd like. I'll admit I didn't really plan this, but these things tend to flow more easily without planning, no?"

"Why don't we start off with a course of Crespéou?"

"As you wish, and your drink...is ready," she placed a Hurricane glass of some sort of blue transparent liquid in front of him. Inside were several mint leaves gently sinking to the bottom of the glass. A slice of citrus was floating on the top of the liquid.

"May I show you to your seat?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Come," she smirked, leading him out of the kitchen with a pitcher of the same drink in his cup.

She led him through an airy hallway. She pointed out a bathroom just in case, and continued down the hall that let out to a kind of sunroom. This sunroom was basically a giant square shaped room, and inside, a giant cage; it was three stories high and plated with glass. This cage was the conservatory. The roof of it allowed sun to fill in, which would aid the botanical garden inside the cage. Ava opened the French doors that led into it and walked in.

Hannibal was a man with taste, it didn't take a lot to realize this. He appreciated the fine arts. He appreciated the people involved in the fine arts. And there were some normal people he appreciated. Will, for instance. Alana, somewhat. The more he thought about it, the more he realized those were the only two people he worked with that he legitimately appreciated. That was besides the point.

In the manner he appreciated people, not for their actions or relations, he observed their beauty. Mental, first, and sometimes physical. He was not sure if Ava had a mind as beautiful as, say, Will's. He was sure, though, at this instant that her physical beauty was impeccable. Her just-above-the-knee length dress hugged her frame that did not say 'desire' but something else, something almost seraphic, in a sense. The sun from the sky above showered her in rays of pure light. It illuminated the reflective sand around her, as well as her soft, milky skin- void of any scars or moles. The exotic flora seemed to welcome her with a familiar grace- a 'welcome back', if you will. She looked like an angel in her element.

It was at that moment that he decided he would not eat her.

She moved onward, Hannibal took off his socks and followed. The sand was cool on his feet and somewhat relaxing. He noticed tiny paw prints off to the side.

Ava sat him down at an outdoor kitchen set and placed the pitcher on the table.

"I'll go fix that Crespéou. You relax, explore if you wish. Coco and Augustus are somewhere..."

She left.

He crossed his legs and sipped his drink; it was nice.


	4. Introducing the Catty Killer part 1

Hannibal had grown bored of waiting for the brunch to technically begin. He recognized that the food would take a while, but he didn't consider it when suggesting it to her. That wasn't to say that he minded being in the conservatory for a while. It was beautiful. And she did say he could explore.

He finished what was in his glass and stood, stepping out of the shade of the umbrella. He heard a meow in the distance but paid no mind- he was focused on the scent of mint radiating from above. He looked up and found that there was a wrap-around balcony a little upwards. Directly underneath was an air conditioning unit that would kick into overdrive every five minutes or so to simulate a breeze.

A breeze caused one large leaf to spill the water it was holding. It made a lovely sound as it hit the thin layer of sand.

He began walking one of the trails that branched into the garden. He ran into who he assumed to be Augustus and found stunning Oriental Lilies. He didn't especially adore flowers, they were not up to par with paintings or drawings in his level of admiration, but he couldn't deny nature's beauty. He stroked a petal of the flower, pleased by its silky texture.

The conservatory darkened. He looked up and took note of dark clouds rolling overhead. Rain was going to fall. He continued his stroll, appreciating the scenery and delicate scents that tickled nose. He then found the stairs to the upper round-about balcony.

This was the area with herbs. He could distinguish each plant from each other. It was a large selection, larger than she would need. He continued until he noticed something slightly above- it was a window. The window held an unobstructed view of a bedroom. It seemed blank, more like a guest room. He reversed his tracks in order to get a better view of a different window. All of them seemed to be floor-to-ceiling windows. In the next room was a more personalized bedroom. It looked larger as well. It must've been Ava's. The other 3 windows, all presumably belonging to bedrooms, were blocked off by curtains.

He walked around the conservatory and went back downstairs to the floor. Coco and Augustus were batting at his socks he had left on his seat. He shooed them away and neatly bundled them up before realizing he had no place to put them. He didn't dwell on it. He suddenly felt the vibrations of his phone.

"Dr. Lecter speaking."

"Yeah, um, Dr. Lecter? There's been a development..." Will sputtered.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yes, I'm fine. We need to talk soon. It's about Ava..."

"Where are you?"

"On my way to your house. I'll be there in...about thirty minutes."

Hannibal sighed.

"I may not be there when you arrive, but allow yourself in. There is a key behind the left candle lantern."

"Oh. Okay."

They mutually hung up. He poured himself another drink and sat, noticing Ava coming with a large silver tray with little dishes. She set them down and poured herself a glass of the blue drink.

"Crespéou, fresh. With fresh onion, tomato, spinach, mushroom, and thin sliced turkey breast," she smirked, revealing a platter of the egg meal.

She took the top off the next plate.

"Various fresh fruits including strawberry, mango, raspberries, and honey dew melon."

She moved on to the next plate.

"Cinnamon rolls."

She moved to the next plate.

"Monte Cristo sandwiches with tomato and Crostini Ricotta."

She placed a plate, with utensils wrapped in napkin cloth, in front of Hannibal.

"_Bon __Appétit."_

"You have outdone yourself, Ava. This looks delicious."

"Thank you. I'm an angel in the kitchen, I like to think. Please, try," she grinned, pouring herself a glass of the blue drink.

"I'm afraid I must eat little. A friend is arriving soon and I'd rather not try to hasten a meal. No meal should be hurried, I believe."

"Hmm...maybe you should invite him or her over here. The more the merrier, ah? Yes? Is it Will?"

Hannibal adjusted himself in his seat and let his eyes drift to the food, then to her.

"Yes. I'm not sure that would be such a good idea."

Ava pulled a fork full of Crespéou out of her mouth.

"Why is that, if I may ask?"

"You remember his profession?"

"A professor? And a...a...criminal profiler, yes, for the FBI. He wants to talk about a case, doesn't he? The 'Catty Killer', huh?" she grinned, using her hands to make quotation marks as she said his name.

The look of amusement and surprise dropped from her face and was replaced with one of formality.

"I understand. I can fix some for you to take home if you'd like."

"If you would."

"Yes, well, when the time comes. When will you be leaving?"

"In about thirty minutes."

They ate in silence for about fifteen minutes until an idea came to mind.

"Actually...maybe we should invite Will," Hannibal said suddenly, taking out his phone.

Ava smiled, her cheeks swollen with food. Hannibal dialed Will's number.

"Will, there has been a change of plans. I am at Ava's house, we are expecting you."

"D-Did you tell her it's about her?"

"No."

"Okay. You can, I mean, if you want. It doesn't really matter who she hears it from. I mean, hopefully she wouldn't hear it from a stranger. Yeah, I'll be there in about five minutes," and he hung up.

"He will be here soon. I think you'd like to hear what he has to say."

"Of course I would. I find it very interesting, and my niece is working on the case. It hasn't come up between us, but I won't press her."

"What is your niece's name?"

"Beverly Katz. CSI, fiber analysis. Do you know her?"

"I know who she is. You are related by blood?"

"Of course not, she's full-blooded Asian. Her mother and father were Asian, mother divorces husband, marries my big brother, and we're all a big happy family. I taught her sass," she boasted.

He acknowledged that silently with a mere smirk and nod.

From the distance, they could hear a knock.

"I'll go get it." Ava volunteered, placing her napkin cloth on the table.

Ava smirked when she passed Hannibal. She was looking forward to hearing about this case- it would be fun to get involved in this ' Catty Killer'. It would also be nice to have something to talk about with her niece. The few similarities they could talk over were family and men. Now they had Will to talk about. And Hannibal. Girl talk. The thought of it made her heart flutter. She quickened her pace to the foyer and opened the door. There was Will.

"Hello, sweetie. Come in," she smiled.

"Yeah, thanks."

"If you could remove your shoes? I rather not have shoes all over the house. There is a cupboard you can put them in," she pointed to the cupboard.

Will obliged and tucked them in next to Hannibal's. He scoffed as he visually compared Hannibal's rich Italian leather shoes and his own dirty, roughed up track shoes. He moved them a cubby over so as not to get the dried mud near his.

"Let me get you a plate and utensils..." Ava murmured, going to the kitchen. Will followed.

"What?"

"You didn't know? We're having brunch, and I said you could dine with us."

"Ah. So, do you know what we're gonna talk about?"

"The case. Do you know Beverly Katz?"

"Yeah. She's in the forensics unit."

"She's my niece. Not by blood, of course, but if you get past the legalities then...she's my niece. Haha!"

"Well, you look pretty young to be an aunt."

"Flattery will get you so far, Will. We're having brunch in the conservatory. I hope you don't mind plants. And you might want to take your socks off, the floor is sand. And don't worry, we're not having hurricanes," she chuckled, catching his look at the hurricane glasses.

"Oh, well- _oh_..." his breath caught in his throat when he saw the outside of the conservatory.

"Welcome to the conservatory, love. The table is just a little ways ahead. I have an assortment of brunch items I think you'll enjoy."

"Thanks for inviting me."

"It's not a problem! The more the merrier! And besides, you haven't told me the interesting things about you."

"Is my career not interesting enough?"

"It's your career. It isn't you, exactly. It's a part of you, but not really you."

"Yeah, well..."

"Here we are," Ava chimed, setting Will's tableware on an empty space at the table. She poured him a drink and sat down.

"That's Coco and Augustus," she pointed out, suddenly taking notice to the two cats who were staring at them a few yards away.

"Nice cats. About the case..." he trailed off, cutting himself some Crespéou.

"I forgot to mention that this involves you, Ava."

Ava looked to Hannibal, then to Will. Her eyes urged him to go on.

"We haven't released photos or identification of the victims, but...they're all women. Like the Minnesota Shrike crimes- they're all woman, and they all look the same. All in the same age group. Late 30s, early 40s. White. Pale white. Dark brown hair. Blue eyes. Same lean physique..." he implied, setting his utensils down. He lost his appetite.

As did Ava.

"There are many women in this area that match that description, Will." Hannibal pointed out.

"Yes, but the killings are taking a pattern. They're all migrating west. I don't think you're at much of a risk since you moved here so recently..."

"Risk. You're saying that I am a possible victim," Ava said slowly. Her voice was hollow.

"Yes, I am...saying that."

"Well...what is to be done about this..."

"Jack is assigning- Jack is my boss- some police officers around the houses of every at risk person. Some are choosing to stay in hotels. But, ah...you have cats."

"Yes- what about them? Does he hurt cats?"

"No, he doesn't. He likes cats. We've had witnesses give us a description- He wears a cat mask. Cat-like mask. And through his taunts and...methods of killing, he got the name Catty Killer. He feeds the victims' tongues to cats. That isn't how he kills them, though."

"Oh. Great. Go on."

"Well...he infiltrates the home. He makes some noises, not enough to get you to call the police, but to get you scared or to leave your bedroom. He teases you a bit. Scares you. He pulls out the tongue for use later. What he does from then on is...unpredictable. For instance, the last victim we had was, ah, bathing in their blood."

Ava sipped her drink in contemplation.

"Except, like most killers like this, he didn't do it for a reason he thought he had. Most killers would've done it because they felt they had to cleanse the body or some other personal need, but...he's doing it to play with us. Catty."

"What can be said about him?"

"He has an outfit. Black pants and shoes, white sweater with a heart on it, and the cat mask. At first he was careless on who sees him, but as his notoriety grew, he's become more stealthy. From the physique, he's probably...in his early 20s. From the way he's killing, it's not like the Minnesota Shrike. He killed those girls because he couldn't bear to see his daughter leave. The Catty Killer is killing these women because there is someone in his life who looks like this that he hates. Somebody he can't kill. From the age group, it could be a professor, perhaps someone supplying funds and shelter. Someone he needs, but hates."

"That makes sense."

"So...if you decide to stay here or hide out somewhere, that's your decision. We'll have officers here if you do decide to stay, though."

"I'll stay. I have to say, I picked an awful time to move."

"Yeah, well...you're taking this lightly," Will said, finally regaining his appetite.

"Many factors weigh in on this. Some are in my favor."

"Yeah."

They continued to eat, engaging in small talk from time to time.

**(A/N, the Catty Killer is supposed to look like Zacharie from OFF (the game))**


	5. Wrapping Up

The brunch ended on a lighter note- they discussed the Catty Killer, Will's dogs, her garden, etc. Hannibal had discovered that Ava used her garden to grow herbs and spices and sold her surplus on the farmer's market. Another one of her many ways of earning money.

Will and Ava hit it off excellently. Hannibal recognized the beginning of a profound bond between the two. In past sessions, Will disclosed how distant he was with his mother. Ava was sitting there feeding him, listening intently to everything he had to say, asking him questions about his dogs, and complimenting him; essentially, she was taking the reigns of matriarchy in Will's life. It was especially evident in Will's behavior- he had relaxed phenomenally and his eyes sparkled with an innocent mirth he had never seen before. He liked that look on Will.

He wondered if it would interfere with his 'progress' on Will.

Ava had a strange glint in her eyes. She was thrilled- elated, even. This was the result of her talking to Will. It was piecing together quite lucidly- she was a mother.

"Excuse me," Hannibal stood, nodding to Ava.

He left the conservatory. He was curious as to whether or not Ava was still a mother and figured a tour around her house would give a clue. He had to be quick- it was undoubted that Ava thought he was going to the restroom. He could say he got lost, giving him an extra 5 - 10 minutes.

He explored the hall, searching for a staircase. He found an arched staircase near the entrance and climbed quickly and quietly. The upper floor winded- it was making a circular ring of rooms around the conservatory. He quickly opened every door he could, finding 4 guest bedrooms, one with the curtains drawn on the window-wall. He could see Ava and Will chatting animatedly from above, but hey could not see him. He noticed Coco and Augustus chasing each other around a palm tree. He left to find Ava's room, which, if his memory served correct, should be next door.

It was confirmed when he walked in to the next door room.

The room had a lovely white hardwood flooring with a large oriental rug taking up the majority of the space. A four post bed with curtains sat on a platform elevated about 1 foot. The vanity, dresser, and wardrobe all matched in material. It was a nice room. He peaked into the bathroom and was more shocked than he would've liked at the sight of a huge bathtub that could be considered a small pool. He shrugged it off and took in the scent of her body washes. Yes, just like her.

But not what he was looking for.

A photograph of any sort would've been useful. Without it, and given the fact that she had never mentioned a son, he drew the conclusion that she was a mother but is no longer. This very personal detail regarding her was very, very interesting. He felt it would prove to be useful in the distant future, but only if he had more confirmation.

He left the room, careful to ensure it was as if he was never there.

When he returned, they were still avidly discussing some current debate on the anachronistic aspects of the profiling of patients and Abel Gideon.

"...so, it's been speculated that this Dr. Chilton is the reason he's the Chesapeake Killer? Is that right? It's what I'm gathering from all of it," Ava articulated with keen interest.

"Will," Hannibal said in a very subtly chiding tone, "did Jack authorize this discussion?"

Will looked down sheepishly.

"No, but she could read the Freddie Lounds's blog and find out the same..."

Hannibal gave him a disapproving look but let it slide- he was right, and that look of embarrassment and sadness didn't suit him.

"Dr. Chilton did not plant the seed of thought that Gideon was the Killer- it was the news. Dr. Chilton watered and weeded the garden in which it grew, so to speak. That is the majority logic among those who do not think he is the Chesapeake Killer," Hannibal summarized.

"What's the majority logic among those who believe he is?"

Hannibal smirked.

"There is none. All the evidence does not directly point to him. People want someone to blame, somebody who is now behind bars. It allows them to feel safe."

Will looked at his watch.

"I gotta go home- see my dogs. A friend has been taking care of them and I need to let her go home," Will explained.

"I'll fix you some something to go," Ava stood with him, walking him to the kitchen for a container.

"I must be departing as well," Dr. Lecter affirmed, gathering his suit coat from the back of his chair.

Ava went back to the table and gathered the dishes onto the large silver platter.

"Might as well take this back to the kitchen, then."

As they walked, Hannibal took note of Ava's gaze at Will- it was one of affection, but not of romance. This verified his assumptions that she was slowly beginning to warm up to him in a familial way. Something about Will reminded her of her own child which she had presumably lost, and add Will's demeanor, he seemed like a replacement. Someone she could exert her maternal instinct on. With such a quick connection made, Ava must have never gotten over her son's death- not properly, anyway. He would have to wait before encountering this if it amounted to a conflict of his own interest.

If he would face it head on, and if all of his assumptions were correct, it would break her. It would control her.

Ava sat the platter on the bar and pulled out a plastic container with lid. She turned off the opera station on her laptop, as she forgot to do so before, and shut it down entirely.

"You can take whatever you like, Will," she smiled pleasantly at him.

Hannibal observed keenly before retiring to the foyer to put his socks back on and retrieve his shoes. He heard Ava's soft footfalls from behind.

"So?" Ava crooned.

He looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"How was it? Up to par?"

"Need I answer? It was exquisite, thank you for inviting me."

"It was not a problem. If you'd like, we can make it routine. I love serving people- food."

"A lovely proposition. I will consider it," Hannibal nodded, opening the door.

Will followed.

"And one more thing, Ava," Hannibal began, "stay safe."

"Don't worry, Hannibal. I have an idea," Ava winked and closed the door.

Ava did in fact have an idea- she cleaned the dishes, a bit saddened by the sudden lack of people. She didn't know why she bought such a big house when she didn't expect anyone but herself and her cats to live in it. A part of her had an idea, but she pushed it away.

With the dishes clean, she took the laptop back to her room and set it up to continue checking her business. She read up more on the Catty Killer, as well as a couple of articles by the woman she heard- this Freddie Lounds. Ava was impressed by her reporting skills. She had gotten her fill on her possible murderer.

Ava recognized that she didn't go out much, she didn't have to go out except to buy groceries, which she could hire someone to do. A wry smile grew on her face- she had an excellent idea. She took long, stretched strides towards her wardrobe and flung the doors open with gusto. Inside, much of the wardrobe consisted of her dresses, some pants, a few skirts, and the shirts she owned that required hanging. Off to the side, there was a cabinet. It was full wardrobe length and, upon opening, unleashed a flurry of colors. In this cabinet were costumes she had gathered throughout her previous travels. She filed through them, finally finding the disappointingly conspicuous attire she planned to wear until the 'Catty Killer' ordeal blew over.

Red, transparent Dupatta with matching Patiala pants- both adorned in gold colored stitches. A knee length matching Kaftan and hijab. It all followed the transparent red with gold stitches theme.

This was too flashy for Baltimore. She groaned and tucked it back into the wardrobe, searching for something else that could serve the purpose. Nothing. She didn't especially want to buy anything for this occasion, though it would be an interesting reminder. She scowled and removed the previous outfit. The hijab would do.

She tried it on, relishing the feeling of cool, foreign cloth. Luxuries. She twisted herself to face the mirror, catwalking towards it.

She reached for her phone and dialed a number.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Beverly."

"Ava! Hey! You done unpacking yet?"

"Yes, I am," she sang, adjusting the hijab, "and I just got done having brunch with some new friends."

"Making friends already, damn."

"Mhmm...and they know you. Dr. Lecter and Will Graham?"

She heard the phone drop.

"Beverly?"

She heard a rustling.

"I-I'm sorry, but, um, how the hell did that happen? That's a huge coincidence. Did you meet Hannibal in the farmer's market? He seems like a farmer's market kind of guy. No, he seems like the guy who'd hire someone to go to the farmer's market for him."

"I just so happened to move into the house next to Hannibal's."

"Oh, wow. And I'm guessing you just met Will on an off chance?"

"Mhmm. I had dinner with Hannibal when I moved in, and I invited him for brunch. We had brunch, and Will called and wanted to talk to Hannibal about the Catty Killer. I said he could invite him, since I briefly met him at dinner, and he did. And you know what I found out?"

"...I have a feeling," Beverly sighed, a twinge of guilt in her voice.

"That I am liable to be murdered."

"I'm sorry, I should of told you sooner, I just hadn't had it completely verified and I didn't want to worry you, and- and I'm really sorry, and it was unlikely that you'd be a target, and-"

"Stop it, Beverly. It's okay, I understand. Now I know. Just forget about it and let's focus on what's important."

"Right. So, what is your course of action? Are you going to stay in a hotel, go out of town, or get some police officers on patrol? You can crash at my place, if you want."

"Oh, no. I just moved here a about a week ago, I'm not being chased out quite yet. I'll get some officers patrolling the grounds, perhaps hire a few people myself."

"I don't think you're allowed hired bodyguards and police officers together. Something about conflict of interest."

"Oh. No matter, I have some confidence in the police. Anyways, how about dinner? I've been dying to try out a new recipe."

"Oh, shit- you know what? I can't, I'm working on the Catty Killer victims. Can we do it tomorrow night?"

"Of course!"

"Thanks, Av-"

Beverly cut herself off. Ava could hear the distant sound of two men talking.

_"Hey, is that your aunt?"_

_"Hi, auntie!"_

_"Let me say hi, Bev."_

"Go away," she laughed, "I'm sorry, those are my two idiot coworkers. Anyways, can you text me your address and when I should be there tomorrow?"

"Yeah, yeah. Alright, see you later!"

"Bye!"

She hung up.

_Damn. _There went her plans for the evening.

She finally perfected the placement of the hijab and looked out the window and into the conservatory. Coco and Augustus were sniffing the table where Hannibal and Will sat. Ava fished out a pair of sunglasses from her nightstand drawer and put them on. A glance in the mirror reassured her. Blue eyes not showing, hair concealed, and long sleeved shirt and pants could help her case significantly. It was cold outside, giving her a reason to wear gloves. Oh yes, by the time she was done inventing this new outfit, the only thing uncovered would be cheekbones, the bridge of her nose, and her forehead. She could apply base and foundation to make those areas look tanner.

"Master of disguise: Ava Cole," she murmured to herself.


	6. A Ruined Dinner

In a day's time, Ava found herself prancing to the door, her costume hijab hugging her neck. She flings the door open, arms widening for a hug.

"Beverly!"

"Ava!"

The two embraced and parted.

"Come in, come in! Could you put your shoes in there? You know how I am about shoes in the house."

"Yeah, yeah. So, Dr. Lecter's house is over there? Oh my God, that's so weird...It's like living next to your teacher in high school..."

"You haven't said a thing about the hijab!"

"It's nice! A little flashy, though. Is that authentic?"

"No, no. It's more of a costume thing, but it makes me look tanner and hides my hair. I should get authentic ones. Anyway, I made pasta primavera, sangria blancas, and a whole assortment of sides. Everything is in the conservatory- oh, you're going to love the conservatory. You know how I feel about plants. You might want to take your socks off, too- there floor is sand," Ava said, her voice reaching a lighter pitch out of giddiness.

"Hot damn, how much did you spend on this place?"

"Enough. There is such a price to pay for luxury, Beverly. Do you remember Coco and Augustus? They should be in there somewhere. I'm sure they've missed you. How long has it been since you've last seen them?"

"Oh, it has to have been at least five years. How are they?"

"Great, great. Augustus is still a little ball of nervousness. He's grown to be more fluffier than I expected, but thankfully he's not shedding. Oh, you're going to love this...Close your eyes."

Ava led the temporarily blinded Beverly to the French doors that led into the conservatory. She bent down to unlock the doors with the key dangling from her necklace- she had started locking it whenever she wasn't in there. Ava reached behind Beverly, and with a touch so full of restrained maternal love, gently pushed her inside.

"Oh my god," Beverly uttered in surprise at the feeling of sand replacing the textured wooden floor.

"Open."

Ava could practically pinpoint the moment Beverly opened here eyes to the exact second- that second after she lifted her head a fraction of an inch, the second before she seemed to slip back a little, arms raising ever-so-slightly, the circulation of breath momentarily halting. She lived for inspiring these moments in people.

"Oh my god, Ava...this is...incredible...how did you get all these plants in here so quickly? They look so naturally placed. As if they grew here, you know?"

"There is a price to pay for luxury," she reiterated. "The table is a little ways ahead. Ah- and there are Coco and Augustus!"

Coco and Augustus paid no mind to the new guest.

"I see what you mean about Augustus. He's a fat cat."

Ava snorted.

"You used silver platters and everything," Beverly noted upon reaching the table.

"I use them whenever I dine out here so Coco and Augustus don't get into the food."

They sat.

"And to answer your question," Ava began, lifting the silver concealer from the platter, "yes. That's Hannibal's house. He said he knew you, but I don't see how. Do you know him?"

"Ah, vaguely. I know he and Will are, like, best friends. There's definitely a bromance forming."

"I can see that. I told you I had dinner with Hannibal a week or so ago, not sure how long, and he came in unannounced."

"Probably for the best; Dr. Lecter is Will's unofficial psychiatrist. I think it's really helping Will to have someone to talk to. I try, but I guess I'm just not what he needs in a confidant, you know?"

"Oh, I understand. I didn't think Will had any problems, he seemed very...comfortable at our brunch. Is he suffering some sort of disorder?"

"I don't know. I don't know much about his case, I mean, I'm his coworker. But I know he spaces out a lot- I think he hallucinates. It's scary. We're all really worried about him, but he's in good hands. Dr. Lecter is the best of the best."

"Mm," Ava hummed in agreement.

"So..." Beverly began in a tone that seemed to end the previous topic, "how are you and the good doctor getting along?" she asked, tonguing her bottom row of teeth. She stared her aunt down, pressing for an answer on the two's status.

"Well, if you must know, every night he comes over and we make passionate love- sometimes he stays the night. Every morning I go to his house and we have more passionate lovemaking. If he is stressed after a session with a patient, he gives me a ring, I come over and we continue our sexual endeavors. If I am yearning for a strong, dominant, wild sexual encounter, then I give him a ring."

Beverly laughs at her aunt's cheeky sarcasm. "Eww!"

"What? Are we too old for sex?"

"No!" Beverly laughs, biting down on a finger food, "It just...it's weird...I can't picture Dr. Lecter having sex, is all. He's so uptight and proper, and...I literally can't imagine it."

"I can."

"I bet."

They shared a laugh.

"But I do agree with you," Ava sighed, taking a sip of the delicate sangria.

"It really makes you wonder."

"Oh, quit it. You're making me ever more curious. I might just have to find out myself."

"Oh God, no! Stop!"

Ava threw her head back at the intensity of her laughter.

"Oh, don't worry. I wouldn't."

"I mean, you guys would look cute together...kind of...but...no..." Beverly shuddered, digging into the entrée.

"You'd look cute with Will."

Beverly choked on her food and reached for her napkin to coat her mouth in case she threw up a little. She continued to cough out whatever was distressing her throat and looked up at Ava incredulously.

"Ah, no, thank you. I'm seeing someone else, and Will's a bit...we're not...really compatible. He's a dog person, hell he has six or seven, and I'm a cat person, and he's...we're not compatible. We both prefer being friends and nothing more. But he's a good guy, you know, if you start going cougar."

"Please, he wouldn't believe I was a day over 35."

"You told him?"

"It came up."

"Yeah, well...this dinner is amazing. Is this enough to get me drunk?" she joked, swirling her sangria blanca.

"Of course not, what kind of aunt would I be if I got you drunk? Your mother and father would butcher me."

Beverly strained a smile, her thoughts drifting towards a recent victim of the Catty Killer. This sprung a certain curiosity in her.

"So where are the police officers? Are they hidden or something?"

"They haven't come yet. When are they supposed to be here?"

Beverly stared at her aunt momentarily, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The fork in her hand slowly dipped back down into the food- her mental gears were turning, Ava could see it. She was piecing a puzzle together in her head. Her eyes were narrow in thought, like a squint. Ava couldn't help but stare back warily- what was going on?

Suddenly, Beverly's eyes sprang back to life, a glimmer of emotion in them. She hastily reached for her cell phone and began texting.

"Officers were supposed to be here last week. We send out 3 people for each person, whenever they are fully functioning as security, they radio back and let us know so we know who is and who isn't under guard. We got the message that you were."

"Somebody lied," Ava said slowly, the gravity of the situation dragging over her.

"I'm texting Jack- our boss- and he'll send some people right away. Maybe we should leave now."

"Right, right...but I've only left the house once? I don't think we have to leave for this, do we?"

"Ava," she began, her voice going deep, "there could be a killer in your house right now. We have to go. Coco and Augustus will be fine."

Ava stared at her, eyes filled with uncertainty before standing and joining Beverly to leave the area. The sand slowed their steps, the silence that emanated throughout the cage fueled their shared paranoia. The tiny grains of rock and mineral suddenly felt violating as they filled the sensitive space between their toes. The plants suddenly felt like a jungle, they were prey to whoever- whatever was hiding in the flora. She could feel eyes. She could feel herself being watched, but it was much more than that. She could feel herself being observed- analyzed- in a way that almost seemed inhumane. An intruder becoming so comfortable in her home, that it didn't feel hers anymore. Comparable to that of entering his world.

Ava glanced up- a mistake for her psyche.

Every windowed wall of every room overlooking the conservatory was open- no curtains were drawn. She vaguely remembered opening them all in the event she suddenly had the urge to play surveillance at any moment. And every open window was every opportunity this Catty Killer could look in.

She felt disgusted. She felt betrayed- and she was curious as to why she felt that way. She and this Catty Killer were not friends. They were not on positive terms. They were detached from one another, but at the same time they shared a bond. A thin bond, made of silken thread. He held one end in one hand and looked to her expectantly. She picked up the other end of the strand without seeing who held it down the line. She knew now. She knew who it was. But she couldn't see him. He was pulling the string, pulling her closer. The betrayal. And that's when her feelings made sense- she felt as if they had a mutual understanding as to just hold the string and leave it be, that was the end of that. But no. He was pulling her in and she did not like it. Not. One. Bit. But she was powerless- she couldn't even see him! Not yet, anyway. She would be prepared for when she could.

They had reached the outside unscathed. The cool night air was a relief.

"Okay, okay...let me just calm down from this heart attack..." Beverly muttered, crouching down to the ground and checking her phone. "Jack should be here with backup in a few minutes, I texted him while we were inside. The Catty Killer won't attack us outside, if he's even here at all. I'm sorry about this...all of this."

"Oh, no, it's okay. It's fine. After all, it was our lives on the line."

Beverly and Ava shared a look that began with 'whoa, that was a close one' and ended with 'I'm so glad to have you alive'. Because death was, in fact, imminent, and both knew that very well- both touched it, although their experiences with it very different. And both could recognize it in each others eyes. Beverly placed her hand on her aunt's shoulder and squeezed.

A indiscernible make of car pulled into her yard, failing to detect a driveway the driver could've easily slipped into. Ava's eye twitched in irritation. Four patrol cars, flashing their obnoxiously important lights, followed. Before she knew it, her lawn was filled with scurrying officers and the like. She felt nauseated and disgusted- moreso than when she was inside. At least inside, there was a bit of tantalizing danger and mystery.

Here, these people, lower than people, were running around trying to find this Catty Killer. Infiltrating her home through any area possible, it seemed. She straightened her posture and watched. Her face held no expression. Vacant, offensively.

Beverly left her side.

Ava let her eyes drift to the man she was talking to- he was tall, big, intimidating. She couldn't hear what they were saying, so saw no sense in paying any attention to them, allowing her to redirect her attention to view her house in its entirety. Lights were turning on, officers behind closed windows were milling about.

Ava knew she should feel grateful, but instead felt spite. She was angry at the Catty Killer. She was angrier at the officers. Her hands cupped her face and she massaged away the expressional lines of vexation. A hand rested upon her shoulder.

"Ava, I noticed the police car lights from inside. Are you alright?" that thick Lithuanian accent invaded her mind and resounded throughout it.

A flick of the ankle turned her in order to make eye contact. At such close proximity, she could notice features otherwise invisible- like how they weren't brown, they were a hybrid shade of maroon. Those eyes made her want to throw up at the moment. All the attention she was giving his eyes made her wonder if he saw anything in her eyes.

"Somebody lied to the FBI. Told Jack, I believe, that I had three officers on my property. They marked me down as secure. I had no such officers patrolling."

"You sound upset."

"Well, I guess that's because I am upset."

Hannibal's cool stare drifted to the ground in slight thought. Ava's never left her house.

"Would you care to join me for tea or coffee? It seems as though your house has been compromised at the moment. You can stay with me until they clear out."

Ava took a moment to soak in his offer. She fished her phone out of her pocket wordlessly and texted Beverly about her soon-to-be whereabouts.

"That sounds lovely, Hannibal."

Her voice betrayed her words, Hannibal detected. She was livid, felt incredibly insecure, but not self conscious. She was not in the mood for words such as 'lovely'.

His hand dipped to gently rest on her back and guide her towards his house.


	7. Ma Huang

She hadn't the patience to sit down- there was a hidden adrenaline that coursed throughout her, and the only indiscernible way to release it was to stand. So she did. In front of the window of Hannibal's den; watching the authorities invade her home.

Hannibal set a bronze tray down on the coffee table. Two cups of tea, per request, and various dressings such as milk, cream, sugar, and the like.

She didn't move from her spot- not one twitch of muscle. Hannibal peered at her with keen interest and competitiveness- he was determined to watch her break the tension she had placed on herself. Only then would he escort her to sit for tea. Hannibal prepared himself a very simple cup of green tea, while Ava was served the controversial Ma Huang tea. He had been ever so meticulous in preparing her drink, for an overdose could prove fatal. He did not wish to kill her, or ail her physically. He was mainly seeking to observe the mental affects that could very well arise: insomnia, anxiety, depression, mania, bipolar disorder or psychosis. Again, exact proportions had to be considered and used to ensure slight safety. He purchased the ingredients with the intention of using them on Will, but refrained at the very high possibility of interfering with his encephalitis's progression.

"I was having dinner with Beverly when we found out. She texted Jack," she bit his name out bitterly, "and we left."

"You're tense, Ava. Please, have a seat- join me. I've prepared an Eastern herbal tea. The leaves are native to Nepal. It will help you," he lied through his teeth.

Ava laughed derisively. "Help me with what?"

Hannibal pursed his lips and exhaled through his nose in artificial annoyance. He took note of her narrowed eyes- she was offended by his actions. It got the job done, though; she slowly, cautiously took a seat on the couch, a seat over from him. He reached out for his cup and saucer, ignoring the other dressings. He preferred unadulterated flavors when it came to this drink. Ava, on the other hand, systematically used 2 cubes of sugar, about a teaspoon of milk, and a tablespoon of cream.

"Does Beverly know where you are?"

"I told her," she murmured before throwing her head back in cold laughter. "I need someone to know where I am at all times? Is that it? I'm not a child. I could be stalked and killed by one, though."

"You must understand that this safety measurement is temporary."

"I do."

"It's not why you're upset, then."

"It's not."

"A penny for your thoughts, Ava?"

"Why not a quarter?"

Hannibal didn't respond to it. He eyed her, waiting for her to continue, whilst sipping his tea.

"I'm not scared of the Catty Killer," she hissed, making quotation marks with her fingers as she bit out his name, "he invaded my home. He made me feel like a _stranger_ in my own home. I'm angry at him. I want to meet him and talk to him and, God, I feel like killing him. He kills people. That elevates him. He's a predator and we, as in the rest of society, are his prey, which makes him...better! Above us. I'm not- I'm not doing that...worshipping thing that others do. Not admiration or adoration, but...you know what I'm talking about, yeah?"

Hannibal set his tea and saucer down and shifted his position to be facing her, yet in a relaxed manner.

"You've formed a nonexistent bond with the Catty Killer. You feel betrayed by his actions due to a imaginary established trust. Do you know why you've done this?"

"No! No, I don't, and I'm rather offended! What makes you think that?" she fumed, leaning back and crossing her arms.

"Do you feel betrayed, Ava? It's quite understandable if you do."

Ava stared at him, wide-eyed and eyebrows furrowed. Deep down she knew he was right, but, like how it usually plays out, she didn't want to accept the truth by acknowledging it. Her eyes began to glisten over with unshed tears. She was fighting a battle that she had yet to know was already lost. She had also yet to know that the battle was with Hannibal, not this Catty Killer.

"It's not okay, Hannibal," she whispered shakily.

Hannibal moved a seat over to be next to her and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"This bond that you've created...it's a method of coping with an unknown enemy. You attempted to familiarize yourself with it. This evening he may or may not have invaded your home- that was not a characteristic you took into account. You built a personality for him and he acted out of it. That explains how you feel now. It's a perfectly normal coping mechanism that can easily be shed with external assistance."

"Shed with external assistance? Hold your tongue, Hannibal, you're my neighbor- not my psychiatrist. I'd rather not talk about this," she shook her head, sliding her right arm up to brush his hand from her left shoulder.

"It is in your best interest, Ava. These things can prove to be destructive if kept in the dark for too long. I am trying to help you; not as a doctor, but as a friend."

Ava looked up in contemplation and sighed- the sigh came out like a treaty of hesitant resignation. Hannibal laid the final blow.

"Please."

"Fine. Do whatever," she quipped, bringing her teacup to her lips and draining it of its contents.

He was taking a bold step with this one.

"When did you lose him?"

She looked at him as if he had read her mind.

"I don't...know what you're talking about," she mumbled, twirling a stray lock of hair. Her eyes cast down and away from him.

"Honesty is crucial."

A moment of silence.

"I was twenty five when I had him...his name was Julian. He was, ah, sick. Very sick. I didn't know how to take care of him. I thought I did, but...I was wrong...and he's dead now. He just- I found him. Apparently, in his sleep, but it was...sleep paralysis was part of it. I made myself forget the details...he was ten...my baby boy," she choked, finally breaking into a sob. She brought her hand up and covered her mouth with her palm in an effort to conceal it.

"I want _my_ son back!" she bellowed through her tears.

Hannibal moved towards her again, settling thigh-to-thigh with her and wrapping his arms around her in a similar hug to the one he gave Abigail nights ago. He rubbed small circles on her back and made hushing noises to ease her.

"You haven't come to terms with your son's death," he told her, tightening his comforting hold on the shaking woman. "This compels you to refill that spot with someone else. Someone like the Catty Killer, or, in a more accurate instance, Will."

Ava stilled, and it seemed everything in the whole world froze, and all that could be heard was her erratic breathing. The stagnate universe broke when she raised her head and looked at him, eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed. She began slowly shaking her head and backing away from him, like prey finally realizing it was in the arms of a predator.

"I don't know what you're trying to do, Dr. Lecter," she said, her voice seemingly hollow, "but it's not going to work. I'm going home. Thank you for the tea," she uttered, fleeing from his house.

Hannibal didn't bother to pursue her, he had gotten what he wanted. Whether Ava had liked it or not, she was marked down as a new addition to the family Hannibal was building out of the people who had recently entered his life, or, more accurately, whose lives he had entered. Even this was unbeknownst to the psychiatrist, though. Hannibal was going to reel Ava in by any means necessary and keep her, along with Will, as well as Abigail. He would work at each one in their own time, starting with Will, since he was the most resilient. Abigail seemed to require nothing but his support, and Ava needed borders and outlines to grow into what he wanted.

But, in the mean time, Will would simmer in his encephalitis, and the effects of the Ma Huang tea would display itself in Ava.


End file.
